Steamed Pudding
by Salivour
Summary: For dessert, my eldest son, Sirius, has taken it upon himself to humbly prepare you all a special dish. Walburga knew that her years were numbered, she could feel the long ache of age deep in her bones. In these last few years, all she could do for her sons was to try and ensure them the best start in the world she could.


Walburga gave her guests an indulging smile and her glass a gentle clink as she rose from the table. "Family, most respected guests," she said, eyes trailing around the lavishly decorated table. "It has been our honour to accept you into our home. For dessert, my eldest son, Sirius, has taken it upon himself to humbly prepare you all a special dish. I do wish you will find this to your tastes."

She gave the gathered guests another smile to their polite nods, feeling thoroughly tired of smiling, but the image of a vivacious host had long been drilled into her. Although now, she felt like telling the guests to leave so she could rest. Her connections were her most powerful asset, along with the Black name, though, so there was no question that they had to be properly maintained. For not only her own strength, but that of her sons as well. Walburga knew that her years were numbered, she could feel the long ache of age deep in her bones. In these last few years, all she could do for her sons was to try and ensure them the best start in the world she could.

Sirius worried her deeply. Walburga was pleased that he was spending his summer at home for once, and even though he was spending most of his time sequestered away in his room, she was hopeful that Sirius would now begin to repair those important connections. As she left the table to fetch her wayward son, Walburga gave her younger son, Regulus a slight squeeze on the shoulder. He looked up to her with a blank expressions, eyes hard. She contained a sigh, even Regulus was becoming distant from her. It all too often seemed as though the entire world was making its distance.

She made her way through the dark corridors of her ancestral home, to the kitchens. She swung the door open to reveal Sirius, standing over a cauldron, immersed in another, larger cauldron of simmering water. She paused in the door a moment. She knew that Sirius's reason for offering to make dessert himself was so he would have an excuse not to be at the table, but she still allowed herself to hope that this was a sign he was beginning to try and forge himself a place in society.

Sirius stiffened as Walburga entered the kitchen, and her heart sank as she saw the glare in his eyes. She straightened her own back.

"What is this?" Walburga said, voice harsher than she had intended.

For a moment, Sirius met her eyes, then he averted his gaze and went back to ignoring her as he so often did. "A steamed pudding," he said, voice tightly controlled.

Walburga wrinkled her nose. This certainly was not the proper sort of dessert she had expected to be served to their guests. In a cauldron of all things as well, what if there was residue in there?

"Did you clean these?" she asked.

"Yes," snapped Sirius.

"Properly?" she asked.

"Yes, I have," shouted Sirius, setting bowls down with far more force than necessary.

Walburga let out a sigh. She highly doubted Sirius had taken the time to scrub the cauldrons properly. His idea of cleaning his room was shoving all of the rubbish he managed to accumulate underneath his bed. She knew that some dangerous potions had been brewed in the family cauldrons, the slightest residue could have dire consequences for their guests, and by extension, the Black name. But she knew Sirius would never listen. The louder she spoke, the deafer he became.

"Where did you learn this anyway?" she tried instead.

Sirius rolled his eyes and huffed as he spooned out the pale, slightly sloppy pudding into the bowls. "I learn about it from Mrs. Potter," he said. Walburga could hear the smugness in his voice. Just like him to turn this into yet another show of defiance. The one interaction he'd attempted in two years, and he couldn't behave properly for a single night. Walburga felt a rush of anger. Her son should know more about his own family than the people in those ridiculous posters he insisted on plastering his walls with, and yet, Sirius would not spend an hour of civil conversation with his family. What she had allowed herself to think was an attempt to begin to mend bridges was just going to burn more. The anger rose, boiling in her chest.

Before she was entirely conscious of her action, Walburga found her hand stinging as it contacted with the side of her son's cheek. "I will not hear of those blood traitors in my house," she shouted. Then froze, breathing hard. Her jaw clenched, she would not apologise. She couldn't, never had once to her sons, even if she knew, deep inside, that was one of the many problems in her relationship with Sirius.

Sirius was gripping the edge of the bench. He only glanced at Walburga for a moment, but she could see the hate in his eyes. "Don't call them that," said Sirius, a darkness creeping into his voice. "Don't you dare-"

Walburga almost struck him again, but managed to stay her hand. They need to survive another hour for the guests. She cannot continue to keep them waiting.

His hands shaking, Sirius poured a sticky brown sauce over the puddings and thrust some into Walburga's hands. He doesn't say anything, but Walburga knows it's because he doesn't trust himself to speak. She can only hope that he'll bite his tongue a while longer. Her son, to whom she felt something close to hate, as he seemed to for her. Hate because he's not the son she always dreamed of having, because he refuses to accept every piece of protection she tried to offer him. Walburga knows that she'll lose Sirius, so maybe it's just trying to harden her heart.

"You will behave," she ordered and goes to serve this dessert to the guests. Perhaps the trust that he has properly cleaned the cauldrons beforehand will be just enough. But she doubt it, as Sirius fell into step beside her. Walburga fixed a polite smile on her face as she entered the dining hall.

"I do hope that you did not mind the wait. Please, let me introduce my eldest son: Sirius," said Walburga, already feeling tired of smiling again. Sirius is has that same smile on his face, and polite words. She only hopes they can keep up the facade a little longer.

* * *

 **A/N** : Written for Assignment 12

Potions Task 1: Write about an object that is used both in Muggle and wizarding culture, but with different functionality.

Word Count: 1,090


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